ironically, now
by Asterisk Blue
Summary: Sasuke wants to be back in Konoha, she had thought. Right. And I'm a unicorn.
1. fever dream

Title: ironically, now  
Summary: _Sasuke _wants_ to be back in Konoha_, she had thought. _Right. And I'm a unicorn.  
_Dedication: WHAHA I FINALLY PUBLISHED THIS. It has been languishing, fully edited, for longer than I want society to know.  
Notes: So this is an AU where Madara dies horribly before the Eternal Tsukiyomi at the hands of Team Seven in all its dysfunctional glory and Sakura kills him really hard because she deserves it, okay, and Hagoromo and Kaguya and all that jazz with chakra never happens. Sasuke learns the truth of the massacre, whups some ass, and parades back to Konoha. And Sakura is a little more badass. And less squishy. I actually haven't solved what to do with the jinchuuriki…oh well.

PLEASE NOTE: THIS AIN'T KARIN-BASHING. IF THAT'S WHY YOU'RE HERE, BUGGER OFF.

* * *

Sakura fell into bed, exhausted from her shift in the hospital, but unable to sleep. Tomorrow, she would train with her team, and although she hadn't seen them in two weeks due to a solo medical mission, it was just an ordinary training session. Except that she would be training with all of Team Seven.

The finally repaired Team Seven. Sasuke had returned from his year-long stint in prison, and was now training with the rest of them once again. Even if he was still in his probationary period, he was allowed to train with his team, or on his own, or anywhere inside Konoha. She stared at the ceiling, wondering about what would happen. They had briefly reunited after his return, but Sakura had been cold as ice. And so had Sasuke. He was taller, face thinner and hair slightly less idiotic. When he spoke, his tone was measured and quiet, and he hadn't even called her 'annoying' in response to her sly jibes about his defection.

But the most marked change was his eyes: they had always, throughout the whole conversation, spun with Sharingan. Either he distrusted them intensely, or his strength was such that he could maintain this level of Sharingan day and night. She had heard rumors of Itachi doing the same thing, never letting anyone come upon him unawares at any time. Sasuke was as touchy as an angry bear, twice as dangerous, and half as cuddly. Though a part of Sakura wanted to think that it was her Sasuke-kun, the boy of twelve, who had returned, she had learned many years ago from Naruto that it was a waste of time to lie to herself.

She hadn't forgiven him as Naruto and Kakashi had, and there was little actual interaction between the two aside from standard greeting, perfunctory questions, and backhanded insults. Speaking to Sasuke face to face was disconcerting, to say the least. The sight of him brought back memories, of the Sharingan glaring and a glow of blue seen out of the corner of her eye. Hands on her neck, black marks covering his body. Of a bench, and of being alone. More than once, she had subconsciously rubbed her Strength of a Hundred seal, her mark of distinction and skill in the presence of one who still had the power to make her feel weak. She had made it, and he was lower than trash.

And now Sasuke would be spending every day with them once again, having served out his time as punishment for betraying Konoha. Although he couldn't go on missions for another two years, he still wanted to keep himself sharp. Still wanted more power. It tore Sakura up inside. She had taken so long to plug the bleeding wound in her heart, and now the scab was being torn away. However, instead of releasing the old, soft feelings like rejected love, hopeless admiration, and fruitless determination, it left her flooded with a new rage. How could he just waltz back in here? _Why had they let him_?

Konoha wasn't his home anymore. True, they had teamed up to kill yet another of his crazed relatives, but the sense of camaraderie hadn't lasted. His loyalty was gone, and there was nothing that could restore him to her good graces. There should have been nothing that restored him with the others, either, but this clearly wasn't the case. He was given a hero's welcome, and it was one of the most discombobulating things Sakura had ever experienced. Sure, he had taken down Madara, but that was in pursuit of his goal of restoring honor to his clan, not out of any affection towards Konoha. He was not a good person. He had still committed homicide, fratricide, and avunculicide, betrayed and then sworn vengeance against Konoha, and tried to kill Leaf shinobi on numerous occasions. She hated him.

Naruto, had, of course, welcomed him back with open arms, like Sasuke was a long-lost sibling who had been traveling to see the sights, rather than a traitor on a blind and suicidal hunt for one of the most loyal and self-sacrificing ninja ever to walk the streets of Konoha. Kakashi had seen him, and though he remained on his guard, more than once she saw him crinkle his eye happily at Sasuke while Sasuke wasn't looking. Some civilians (and even some kunoichi) reverted back into fangirls, perhaps not so rabid, but discussing what a catch he would be and how handsome and brave and strong he was. It left Sakura feeling isolated, the only one clear-sighted in a sea of blind believers in Sasuke's virtue. Only the other day, Ino, Ino who had cried when they were given Sasuke's kill order because she knew he had reached the point of no return, Ino asked her why she wasn't happy that Sasuke was back._ After all,_ she'd said, _he's here, and he wants to be. That's more than you ever could have imagined._

The statement had elicited from Sakura a noise between a snort of disbelief and a sardonic laugh. _Sasuke _wants_ to be back in Konoha_, she had thought. _Right. And I'm a unicorn._ Really, why would he? To become Hokage? Probably it was all a plot to destroy the whole village from the inside in a continued quest for VENGEANCE.

_On that happy note_, Sakura decided, _it's time to go to bed. I need rest after that shift, so I can be in top, angry form. _She knew she would need all her chakra to fully and systematically punch that smug, asinine, overbearing, invasive…creature from here to Sound.

Haruno Sakura, Uchiha Sasuke's most loyal fangirl, who had once told him she loved him _and meant it_, fell asleep to the imagined feel of Sasuke's nose crunching under her fingers. It was so real she could almost taste it.

* * *

The next morning, after a series of actions she couldn't quite remember, Sakura had prepared herself for training. She was dressed, fed, and walking before her mind escaped from the fog of confused emotions that had trapped her. She squashed all the feelings, reciting shinobi rules and reminding herself of the fact that it was unbecoming to allow emotion to overcome her in a potentially delicate situation.

It was then that she realized exactly how potentially delicate the situation was. Sasuke had been a missing-nin for many years, so how exactly would he respond to a sparring match? She had seen attempted rehabilitations of many ninja who had suffered mental damage from genjutsu less severe than the Tsukiyomi, and that had mostly ended with the patient fighting anyone they chose to spar with to the death. Would the horror of the massacre, the years with Orochimaru, Itachi's death and subsequent resurrection, have been enough to break him?

It certainly was a long list of angsty woes, enough to drive even the tougher brands of emo-kids to insanity, but she flash-stepped straight to the training ground anyway. Some things were worth the risk.

* * *

Of her team, only Sasuke was waiting when she arrived in a swirl of leaves and cherry blossoms. This was not necessarily unexpected, though part of her disliked the idea of fighting him on her own, without a referee to ensure fair play. Still, Naruto slept like a log (not to mention snored like a chainsaw) and Kakashi was probably 'lost on the road of life'. Sai, showing more emotional sensitivity than expected, promised not to show up until the state of affairs with Sasuke's baggage could be judged. The unexpected thing was there was a second person. She was sitting in the corner, one arm slung over Sasuke's shoulder, hand curled around his bicep. Sakura stopped in shock as she stared at the red hair, the glasses, and the wine-colored eyes. What was Karin doing at Team Seven event? Team Hebi wasn't to be released from their stretch in prison for another two months!

**How on earth Karin get here, and more importantly, what is she doing with her hands all over my Sasuke-kun?!** Inner Sakura was completely infuriated, in a way that was over-the-top and slightly fake. It made Outer Sakura twitch in surprise: where had she come from, and why was there such a vivid mental image? Inner Sakura was only a voice now. Well, apparently only most of the time, because right now she was shouting and squealing and (here Outer Sakura mentally cringed) _banging on her chest_. It was such a display of bestial rage that Outer Sakura knew something was off; the interrobang at the end of the sentence hung in her mindscape like a red flag.

As Outer Sakura had become more competent, Inner Sakura was depended on less and less, coming out only to assist on seduction missions and when mind-control jutsus were in use. Even on those occasions, it was either as a lust-crazed whisper that knew just what to do, where to touch, when to kill, or a grim howl that shattered the enemy control. Sakura felt a tingling combination of discomfort and relief. It was _Inner_ Sakura that had regressed to twelve years old this time, not her.

Plus. The –kun. She'd dropped that suffix like a hot potato the instant she saw what Sasuke had become. It had actually happened in a moment of resolve strengthened by the angry voice at the edge of mental hearing, so listening to Inner Sakura bandying it about was…disturbing, to say the least.

Sakura was so absorbed in her thoughts, hearing the odd, almost-but-not forced temper tantrum of her Inner, who seemed to be ignoring her outer thoughts, and her own speculations, that direct collision with a rapidly encroaching tree was avoided only with difficulty. Sasuke had surely sensed her by now, but seemed engrossed with the girl beside him. Rapidly exiting her moment of stupidity, Sakura stepped sideways, towards the waiting people…whose cheeks were lying against each other in the kind of careless affection that Sakura had been sure that Sasuke would never engage in with another human being.

Well. Ino was going to have a _goddamn field day_.

* * *

_The best way to approach this,_ Sakura concluded after a moment of swiftly-concealed shock, _is as though it's a spy mission. Search for a tactic to delicately ease out the truth. And since it's Sasuke, and words come from his mouth as easily as internal organs come from the mouths of other (normal) human beings, it'll have to be a good one…_

She began conversation suavely, with an, "_Oh_. Um, hi…?" All the while, Sakura wore a concealed smirk. So much meaning in three short sounds. Subtle undertones and unasked questions. Oh, the benefits of a Sannin teacher and a gossipmonger best friend.

Translation: _Oh._ I'm surprised to see Karin here, and I register that you're a little _more _than friends. Um. Am I interrupting something? I can sense the awkward tension that my presence has created. Hi…? How am I expected to treat Karin? Where do I fit into this picture? Where does _she_?

Karin turned toward her, her burgundy eyes flashing like blood from underneath those square glasses. They were blank, but the blank of tightly reined-in _something_ rather than lack of emotion. She blinked slowly, registering Sakura's words in silence.

"Hello, Sakura." Sasuke turned to face her too, but kept an arm around Karin. "I'm glad you're here. I have an announcement to make, and it would be best if all of our team arrived on time to hear it. However, since I assume Kakashi will not come for at least another hour, I suppose I could tell you now, and pass the time waiting for the others in discussion." His features were entirely immobile, save for a strange curve to his lip. It conveyed disgust and admiration in the same expression, and though she knew other shinobi, even ones trained to read faces, might have discerned less, she felt disappointment that she did not understand what caused it.

"And what is this announcement?" She managed to smother her expression equally well, courtesy of Sai and the ROOT training he passed on to her. It was a useful skill, but he had not wanted to teach her, saying it was crushing the soul to suppress it the way he did. He had actually been kind of eloquent, but Sakura liked the feeling of completely destroying her greatest weakness, even if that weakness was a vital part of who she was.

Wow, had she really just thought that? She wasn't that emotionally scarred by the fiasco that was the genin Team Seven. Was she?

Sasuke seemed ready to add to the scarring. Karin was anticipating what he would say, which meant that it was probably something bad. The something in her eyes flashed stronger. But when the pompous, mechanical monologue came, she struggled to maintain the mask. Almost worse than she had thought.

"I would like to take this chance to formally announce my engagement to Uzumaki Karin, and to invite you, as a member of my former team," insert stifled wince here, "to the wedding, which will take place next month, on the first of May. We will be married by Hokage Tsunade in the Uchiha Shrine at eleven, to be followed by a short reception. Also invited are Hatake Kakashi, Uzumaki Naruto, Hozuki Suigetsu, Hyuuga Hinata, Inuzuka Kiba, Aburame Shino, Yamanaka Ino, Akimichi Choji, Nara Shikamaru, Rock Lee, Tenten, Juugo, Sai, and, of course, the Godaime Hokage Senju Tsunade."

Sakura noticed how although maybe Tenten was listed near the end mentioned with Lee, Juugo and Sai had been separated from the rest of their teams because they had no clan surname. He was a rotten bastard even while being a frigid lump of ice. She was almost impressed.

"Naruto, as Karin's last living family, will be walking her down the aisle, as she decided on a Western wedding. This means that Kakashi will be my best man. However, Karin lacks a maid of honor. Because you were closest to me during my time in Konoha, and saved Karin's life, she chose you for this important responsibility. Do you accept?"

Did she? Glancing over at Karin, who had yet to speak, she searched for and located the twitching something in the neutral countenance that indicated Sakura was being presented with this 'important responsibility' only because Karin wanted to show off the man that Sakura thought was soon to become a trophy husband. What could she do?

"Of course. I would be delighted."

* * *

Sakura hadn't had a chance to talk to Naruto yet today; she had sparred against (and beaten the ass of) Kakashi earlier, taking out on him the frustration of Sasuke's oh-so-important announcement. Now that both spars were over, however, everyone was paired with a new partner, and now Sakura's was Naruto. They had decided to forgo the spar in favor of supposedly watching "The Clash of the Sharingan," as Naruto had melodramatically labeled it. Sasuke had smirked at the both of them, reveling in a tangible (and smug) anticipation of his victory. Kakashi had given them his most blank, disbelieving stare, silently reminding the pair that they hadn't wasted an opportunity to be wantonly violent towards each other in years. Still, he agreed to let them observe.

Now they sat, talking in quiet voices about the war, until Sakura brings up the red-haired topic that they have been skirting around for the past two minutes. "So...your cousin's wedding?" It was asked awkwardly, and with no little trepidation, but tinged with an avid, genuine curiosity.

"To Sasuke? I dunno, Sak, I dunno. It's really bizarre. I mean, Sasuke isn't the type for romance and he always hated his fangirls. But he's not treating her like a baby machine for restoring his clan either, y'know? I'd suspect mind-control if he didn't have the Sharingan." This almost made Sakura burst into hysterical laughter, but a glance at Karin later and she had successfully quelled any urge to laugh.

"I think it'll be good for him; Karin seems to really love him," Sakura said, her face straight as it could be. "And he really, truly loves her," Naruto finished. His face was equally straight. They made it half a minute before finally succumbing to a convulsive fit of giggles.

These were cut off when Sasuke slammed with bone-shattering force into a tree right between them, and Kakashi, looking smugger than Sasuke had, pulled his hitai ate back over his eye even as Sakura turned to stare at him. Whipping back around, Sakura surrounded her hands with healing chakra, but Karin was already stalking past her, grabbing Sasuke, who had returned to his feet. He was clutching his slashed-open ribs in well-concealed pain, but his stormy expression cleared when he saw Karin. Karin made a strange champing motion with her mouth behind closed lips, then grabbed Sasuke and kissed him.

It was in obscene slow motion, and obviously a lot of tongue was involved. The flushed cheeks of both bulged and then subsided, and when Karin stepped away and grinned, Sakura saw that her teeth were as red as her hair. The healing properties of her blood were well-know, and Sasuke licked his lips in satisfaction as a three-foot gash across his torso began to seal itself. Karin, still grinning, suddenly whipped her head down to regard Sakura. As she did, Sakura swallowed a scream. Karin's eyes spun with the pinwheel of the Sharingan.

Sakura awoke laughing.

Sakura was staring at her room, the light of dawn peeking around the edges of her curtains. She thought, _It was a dream?_ and as she looked around her room, she assured herself that it was still the morning before the first gathering of Team Seven post-Sasuke's release. Since she had been put under genjutsu so many times, her dreams had become more and more vivid, a hazard of being a ninja. Sometimes they were traumatic memories, but some were fantastic...like this one.

In fact, it was a shame it was only a genjutsu-residue induced delusion, really. Though her dream Inner was horrified at the thought of darling Sasu-kins and awful Karin-baka marrying each other, the real her was thrilled at the idea. They were just alike in evil temperament, but she would be willing to bet her last buck that one would regret it by the end of the week. Either Karin wouldn't be able to deal with Sasuke's emotional constipation, or Sasuke would be strangled by Karin's clinginess. Of course, a quick divorce would stain the Uchiha name. They'd be stuck. Perhaps she could suggest an omiai to Sasuke as a way to find a bride and pull some strings with the matchmaker?

Settling her hitai ate on her head, this time for real, Sakura tried to banish the memory of the dream for her mind. After a barely tasted breakfast spent calming herself down and breaking occasionally into fits of frenzied mirth at the thought of Sasuke and Karin, Sakura made her way towards the training ground, and towards her team.

And towards Sasuke. He was not a member of Team Seven anymore.

* * *

Notes: I've always wanted to use the word 'interrobang' somewhere that actually made sense. So. Go look that up. Oh yeah, avunculicide too. _Hey this is my fifth story; someone hire me as a beta!_

Fun fact as to why this is an AU: this was originally a one-shot which I edited, decided to make a multi-part, promptly renovated the entire thing, and then left to stew until I found a beta/editor, so I wrote it pre-Kaguya. AND YET I STILL MANAGE TO FAIL AT EDITING IT WHAT IS MY LIFE. Oh well…

I SAY AGAIN: _This is not Karin-bashing_. On the contrary, Karin is a sympathetic character at this point. The Karin I represent is the hallucinated idea that Sak has. Sakura just knows _jack shit_ about Karin and judges her. That _will_ change when she, y'know, actually meets her. Give it time.

Jesus this author's note is getting long, so I just want to say that school has started, and maybe just maybe there might be a few pesky constraints to my time involving Real Life. It's the dreaded excuse used by every author sometime, but also it's true.


	2. wanderthought

Title: ironically, now  
Summary: _Sasuke _wants_ to be back in Konoha_, she had thought. _Right. And I'm a unicorn.  
_Dedication: to EasyBib. That will save your LIFE in research projects, oh man.  
Notes: Karin backstory! Woo! And y'know how Karin pretended to be insane to keep her lock-pic (badum-tss) of Sasuke in canon? Well, here, she actually _has _mental issues, mostly stemming from PTSD. Sasuke, Juugo, and Suigetsu also have diagnosed mental disorders (duh). Trigger warning for that, I guess.

_Warning: as every fanfiction author must, I'm taking liberties with Sasuke's time with Orochimaru, seals, and everything else, so look away if blatant _I made this shit up _wounds you. _I would really appreciate a beta or something to help me get my timeline straight (I skipped around a lot in the manga…).

* * *

Karin kicked at the floor. Here, in the cells of Konoha, the sealed walls were the only thing she saw, day in and day out. They reminded her, too much, of Orochimaru's prison, but fear inspired by even that wore off in a month or so. Once her interrogation had finished, the drugs pulled from their socket in the crook of her arm, and the tiny abrasions and bruises healed, things had got _boring._ Her guards were only Chunin, after all, because her chakra was completely sealed by a mark on her collarbone and negated by the walls of her cell. The cell door was a metal grate so that she was watched at all times, but it hummed with energy that administered a painful shock when touched. The Chunin guards were mostly very young, wartime promotions who had kept their rank but been assigned easy missions, and all were deathly afraid of her. They weren't the ones who kept her in; the cell did that. If she got out, they would be running for reinforcements, not fighting. Te last time she had broken out _very _quickly, and they still had no idea how she'd done it, so the Chunin had the right to avoid even her red-eyed gaze.

All that was very flattering, but it also meant that she had no one to talk to. Unless she was going out for a once-a-month visit or daily training, she simply sat on her rear and had the same cycle of thoughts over and over. The training didn't involve human interaction either; a silent ANBU deactivated the electricity of her cell and lead her to a reinforced dojo. When she returned, she marked a cliched line on the wall, one for each day. The ANBU always bore their two hours of absolute stillness in the dojo stoically, possibly because it had been a year of confinement and she had seen each mask only around twelve or thirteen times. God, the Konoha nin were overpowered; how did they still have over _thirty_ ANBU after a war like that one? Still, she supposed, they had produced Sasuke, and others of his caliber and higher. And some very, very good medics.

Now _that_ was the epitome of dull. She'd followed this train of thought to its station a hundred thousand times before. The fact remained, no matter how often she tried to beat it back, was that she was _weak._ Her skill was sensing, which did not often lend itself to combat beyond dodging, and healing, which as Sakura and Tsunade had proved to her, she was mediocre at. It was a depressing thought; to Sasuke, she was nothing but a replacement in everything from abilities to her hair color to her personality. And then the very girl who she had replaced saved her life and then the whole world. Karin was thrown away like so much trash the instant Sasuke was back with his old team.

The dreams had been worse in the first few weeks, being interrogated over and over, and in the hours allotted to her for sleep, trapped in a cell that Orochimaru had obviously based his own off of. She woke screaming, something she hadn't done since the year after her village burned. She saw faces, faces she had made herself not remember for a long time, and felt over and over the blast through her chest. Every day, (or night, or afternoon) she woke with the tang of blood on her lips and a throbbing pain in her heart.

* * *

The interrogators had been more or less kind; Karin had saved their Hokage. It was mostly sedatives that they had used, rather than poisons, and she was almost never even slapped. Only when she started swearing.

She had told them everything there was to tell, especially about Sasuke, Juugo, and Suigetsu. There had been so many questions, since she was the only one equipped to answer them. The only doctor among a sea of patients, Karin had quietly diagnosed all the others in her group with chemical imbalances in their brains. They had, in fact, been chosen by Orochimaru for that purpose, Karin, Suigetsu and Sasuke because it made them easy to manipulate, and Juugo because the enzyme he contained was a valuable resource. They had broken free and banded together, but a band where _everyone_ is judgmentally impaired is worse than the blind leading the blind.

Her old friend Ibiki had laughed when she'd said that. It was not a pleasant laugh. Then he'd asked how much she knew about their particular problems, and Karin had replied with a drop of blood and the location of her sealing scroll. The stolen medical files were there, along with her descriptions of their chakra. Those were from the clear days, which unfortunately were not as often as she would have liked. The rest of the time, Karin had been sunk deep in a cocoon of previously suppressed hormones and shrouded in Sasuke's overwhelming, tainted chakra. Half the memories of her time with Taka were enough to make Karin wince in retrospect, but, she thought meditatively, she'd only found out that his tattoo was a seal in the last month.

It had been so pretty, too; an abstract pattern blooming out from previous location of his cursed seal like a drop of ink spreading in water. The chakra concentration detected there she had written off as the residue from the curse mark and its removal by Itachi, but when she laid a flirtatious hand on the new tattoo, she felt, with a shock, that it was powered with _Sasuke's_ chakra. It had been twined with seals for control, for strength, and for sanity. She'd recognized its make, too, as one of Orochimaru's, but the hand that had inked it was far more artistic. Probably Sasuke's own, drawing it out painstakingly on a scroll and then chakra-sparking it onto his skin. It was layered, complex, and, she'd discovered with a delicate probe, probably the only thing holding him together. Which was why, during the fight with Danzo, Karin had become so afraid: Sasuke had run down enough chakra that the seal would soon depower. The more often it did, the more the damage would grow…

And then when Danzo hand taken her hostage, Sasuke had snapped. Izanagi had worn down his chakra too much for him to support the seal, and he was left with a crack in his psyche that couldn't be fixed by the seal anymore. Then, of course, he had waltzed off with Madara, and the chance of anyone fixing him was dropped _past _zero. The reason why Karin had forgiven him, why she'd gone back to loving him (or at least pretending to), was because someone had to.

* * *

Karin stared up at the wall of her cell, counting the meticulous scratches. One for every day, separated into groups of weeks and then months. Today, she knew, was the day that Sasuke is released. Two more months, and then she was going to, too. She wondered idly what she was going to end up doing.

She might be installed in the hospital; she'd saved the Godaime with her bloodline. And yet her work with Orochimaru and time with Sasuke made her unreliable. She might be set up with a team of genin, maybe, as babysitting duty in the belly of Konoha, but again, no, they'd not want her teaching some of the things she knew to impressionable twelve-year-olds. Perhaps they'd put her on a team? Yes, most likely. One made up of loyal shinobi prepared to gauge her skills, assess the danger, and try to plant her even more firmly on their side through friendship and subtle persuasion.

Of course, that thought was no more a new one than the ruminations about weakness, but today Sasuke was being released, and so for the first time she allowed herself to think of what they might do with him. It had of course been a prevalent thought when they were interrogating her, but she had prodded just hard enough and read in between the lines of their questions to know that they wouldn't throw away a tool with such potential quite so quickly, and relegated the rest of her worries to the back of her mind.

But how could one fix a tool so broken? Well, Karin pondered, she'd approach it through the most vulnerable avenue, where the most damage was: Sasuke's emotions. Familiar faces would give him a sense of security and also provide bodyguards who knew his strengths and weaknesses. He would be most efficiently lead by the nose if he was being dragged by someone he used to trust, which meant that unless Karin was utterly, hopelessly wrong, Sasuke was being returned to Team Seven.

So what team did that leave Karin with? As she had done so many times before (Kami she hated this cell), Karin ran over the mental list of Konoha squads that she might be placed on. The team with the green ones, she recalled, had lost a member during the war, or the Sai boy might be paired with her and Juugo or something. No way to know.

She hoped it would be time for exercise soon. They _had _to let her out to train at least once a day, for sanity's sake, but also as a way to prevent a soon-to-be Konoha kunoichi from deteriorating in her skills. No point in keeping her from training if she was going to be fighting _for _them soon enough, and it would obviously be a good time to get a read on the full range of her abilities. Even though she was only allowed out for a miniscule two hours every day, those hours had come to be her lifeline. There was nothing but her and the huge, shadowy dojo, whaling on the punching bag, and the exercise after the lethargy of her cell was always like waking up. Karin had decided to work on her endurance and taijutsu ever since she'd been too stupid and slow to avoid Danzo, and it seemed to be working; she was no green freak of Konoha, but she could now hold her chakra chains for the entire two hours, as well as knock the punching bag off the ceiling with a single well-placed kick.

Karin smiled at the memory of first using her chains in front of that uptight ANBU. They'd unsealed a portion of her chakra for the practice, but there was a trap that would kill her instantly if she exited the practice room before it was resealed. Still, she didn't mind. They'd made a concrete pillar stuck with kunai just for her, with the challenge that she raze it to the ground in the two hours she had. Manifesting her chains after so long was an effort, especially at half-power, but in the absence of chakra for training, she'd honed her endurance, and it was the work of two _minutes, _not hours, to destroy the training post, sweeping through it back and forth and back and forth.

The ANBU hadn't reacted well. Through those two minutes, she had been the focus of unwavering, aggressive attention. The mask had swiveled to face her, and she could see lowered fingers holding poison senbon with target already selected. It was amusing, the amount of fear ANBU Cat seemed to have of her, but then again, they had underestimated her last time, and Cat was clearly determined not to repeat the mistake. But really, if they were _that _ignorant about kunoichi techniques, how on earth had that not been a problem before? Female ninja had to utilize any means possible to survive, and acting was the foremost. Seduction, disguise, infiltration, and lies were a woman's most powerful weapons. If they thought for a second a hopelessly infatuated, brainless girl could have survived _six years_ in Orochimaru's tender care, they were fooling themselves, and no mistake. Well, big mistake for them. She'd used her trickery and their own assumptions about women (which were ridiculous. Didn't they have a female _Kage_ here?) to escape, not any fancy attack or her bloodline limit.

And kami, the Konoha nin were _terrible _at cooking. Making her a bowl of deep-fried pork cutlets when she'd asked shouldn't have taken as long as it had, and the prison food, while technically nutritious, was about as flavorful as half-chewed gum. And as tough to digest. Really, it was revolting.

But, and here Karin's prison-addled thoughts took a random right turn, not as revolting as ramen, which her _cousin _always babbled about. Really, had no one ever told him about sodium poisoning when he was young? Well, she conceded, if the history she had pieced together by listening to rumors and his excited chatter during his once-monthly visits was anything to go by, probably not. Even those who thought of it in passing must have hoped it would kill him. Something she had never understood: if they were so afraid of jinchuriki, why would they treat them so poorly? One beating too many might have been enough to bring the Kyuubi no Kitsune raging through the village once more, and yet the brainless civilians seemed to think it was a _darn good idea_ to get wasted and try to attack the vessel every other night. She'd heard the stories from Mist about how in the Academy odd, undersized Yagura had been subjected to every indignity and horror known to man, but only by his fellow ninja. The downtrodden Mist civilians had, sensibly, avoided him.

Whatever village, abuse of a weapon like a biju always came back to bite its citizenry in the ass. Yagura had become Mizukage, exacting subtle and terrible revenge on those who had harmed him, and Fuu had needed to release the Shichibi and annihilate a small part of Waterfall before anyone treated her right. B had been respected and therefore taken care of his people, and Naruto...well, Naruto had sunshine and rainbows coming out of his ass, which was most of the reason _any _Konoha citizens were still alive. Honestly, maybe constantly preaching kindness did have its perks.

Wow. Karin realized that she was officially cracking up. Just because her traffic-cone cousin hadn't killed everyone out of bitterness didn't mean that it was a stable way to create warriors. It was also very hypocritical in their profession, and being force-fed such propaganda on the one hand and facing the reality of shinobi life on the other led to some _very_ fucked-up ninja. Case in point: Team Seven. The stories Naruto had told her were all touched by wistfulness, but she'd gotten out of them something very different. There was the princess too weak to stand on her own traumatized by her team's abandonment, the optimistic kid to nice to fight back being constantly bul-

_Clang! _Karin's head swiveled as an ANBU abruptly appeared out of nowhere and placed a hand on the cell door with a small, metallic noise. The Chunin guard back away in fearful reverence, bowing formally to the starkly black figure. The gesture was completely ignored, and the slight boy turned and walked off down the hallway at a pace that was just a little too fast to be called restrained. The ANBU, a woman wearing a butterfly mask, sent out a pulse of chakra, and Karin's lips curved into a sharp little grin. Not only was she being let out for her training time, but she knew ANBU Butterfly's chakra very well. She could feel the oddly wide and overflowing networks in the hands, the tiny threads of chakra in the hair changing its color to an unremarkable brown that appeared natural even to a Hyuuga. Today she wasn't just going to train to exhaustion (as she so often did; as a medic-nin she knew it was one of the few ways to insure a regular sleeping pattern), she was going to work until she could no longer _walk. _She always did when ANBU Butterfly was her watcher. ANBU Butterfly had saved the world, and Karin had nothing on that. But no matter how much _ANBU Butterfly _had done, Karin could try.

The door swung open, and Karin stepped forward, feeling her legs stretch. ANBU Butterfly grasped her by her wrist, securing them together with one of Konoha's seemingly endless seals. "Well," Karin said, half to herself and half to the mask beside her, "let's get started."

They walked off down the corridor, and Karin, for the first time that day, no longer felt cotton-headed and tired. She was focused now, no longer preoccupied with thoughts of Sasuke's release and Konoha's next move. It was just her and the woman to her right, and that was okay.

* * *

Notes: I'm sorry that there was so long a wait for so short a chapter, but there's only so much exposition and backstory you can cover before you get boring, and only so much action you can make up for a character locked in a cell before you get unrealistic. Does everything make sense? And yes, I figured out a way to weasel Sasuke out of responsibility for his actions. Seals are a great plot device, and it makes Karin seem much less shallow for forgiving him so fast. PLUS DON'T COMPLAIN ABOUT ANBU SAKURA. ANBU SAKURA IS MY _JAM, _AS WELL AS BEING A DARN GOOD PLOT DEVICE TOO. If you're curious, she was promoted in battle by Kakashi to Jonin, and made ANBU post-war. If you didn't know that it was Sakura, please tell me; I hoped I made it very clear.

Also, I will blame any inconsistencies in the plot thus far on Karin; she's been locked up for a year, poor darling. (Which is to say, in my last author's note I made is seem like Sakura knows nothing about Karin, while in reality they've met twelve times. Sakura has seen nothing but the clingy girl in the war and in prison the murderous fighter determined to show her up; personality-wise she knows nothing. Sakura has never said a word to her.)

Aaaand I'm out!


	3. spins madly on

Title: ironically, now  
Summary: _Sasuke _wants_ to be back in Konoha_, she had thought. _Right. And I'm a unicorn.  
_Dedication: to my glitterface, also known as Admiral Cinnabar on this site.  
Notes: I can't _believe _that I agreed to write from Sasuke's perspective. He's really irritating to try and, like, _understand. _I don't know how Naruto does it all the time, and he's the reason this chapter took like three times as long as the other two to write. I just made him very sarcastic, brooding, and nuttier than a truck full of pistachios. *Throws up hands.* Tell me how badly I failed.

* * *

When the ANBU opened his cell, Sasuke felt nothing but powerful relief. He had been trapped in the buzzing hell of the secure prison for exactly a year now, and _sick of it _was the most understated way one could describe his feelings. He was only ever allowed out for two hours a day of chakra-free training, and once-monthly visitors. Only ever Naruto and sometimes Kakashi came. There was no one else.

Sasuke's prison stint hadn't been as horrible as it could have been, he supposed. There was always clean bedding, fresh food, and lots of space given to him. That didn't mean that he was trusted or given a long leash by any means. As one of the most powerful Sharingan users ever born into the Uchiha Clan, and certainly the most powerful alive, his guard was a blind tokubetsu jounin who was probably a sensor. His chakra was sealed twenty-four/seven, and his cell, an underground block of solid stone buzzing with electricity, could be locked down remotely with chakra-draining metal doors. Ibiki had explained every nuance of the cell's defenses to him the moment he was deposited inside-or so he said. Sasuke doubted that all of the information was true. The more intimidating half probably wasn't; no one wanted a prisoner who knew exactly how his prison's most powerful traps worked. The bits about the inside of the room were most likely true, with the "explanation" getting less and less accurate as the outer layers of protection were described, finally being replaced with outright lies as the layout and traps of the rest of the facility were outlined.

He, personally, would have been so radically outlandish and menacing in his speech to the prisoner that it was almost a threat and the intel he "shared" was so far off base that any escape attempt would be flagrantly misinformed, but he knew that Konoha wouldn't want him doing something stupid enough to permanently injure himself. So they told him exactly where not to stick his fingers, or the bars would electrify him with more force than a Chidori and probably stop his heart. Then poor Shizune would be dragged out of her regular duties to save his hide as the on-call medic for classified cases and that would just be so pointless for all involved, wouldn't it?

Sasuke agreed. If he was going to be released later anyway, what was the point of trying to break out? Good behavior would only speed that outcome. As an escapee and missing-nin, he would just be hounded by the Elemental nations all over again anyway, and there wasn't like he had somewhere he pressingly wanted to be.

Sharing that thought with Ibiki during his interrogation sessions only garnered him a skeptical look, but it was the truth. Now that he had killed Orochimaru (hopefully), Itachi, Danzo, and Madara, he was running out of targets for revenge-crazed quests. He did still have the rest of the council on his hit-list, but they were old and might die suffering _without_ his intervention. Poisoning them and making it look like an accident was much less messy and less likely to get him killed in the process. He could stay in Konoha, restore the Uchiha Clan _and_ kill the elders.

Coincidentally, Sasuke might have forgotten to share this little idea with Ibiki, even throughout the course of his interrogation. Planning on murdering village officials was not a great tool for reintegration. His interrogators were overtly suspicious of him as it was. They were probably right, he thought wryly, in their worries that he was going to infiltrate and the tear Konoha apart from the inside in a mad quest for VENGEANCE. At least this time, he was trying to be subtle about it.

The fact that he hadn't mentioned VENGEANCE at any point during his meetings with the Yamanakas and with Ibiki seemed to make some of them uncomfortable. Not Ibiki, obviously, because even if Sasuke had thrown a senbon at his eyeball it would've bounced off the sheer wooden blankness of his poker face, but the second Yamanaka who performed the Mind-Body Switch on him (the first had been too inexperienced and therefore unable to handle whatever it was he'd seen in Sasuke's mind) always asked about it.

Sasuke was supposed to be absolutely unable to lie to the Yamanaka in his head, but the Sharingan has more uses than seen on the surface, especially in the mind. When asked about the Elders, his benevolence was palpable...and very fake. Sasuke took the artifact that represented his thirst for VENGEANCE, a bottle filled with oily-red acid, and hid it.

It always struck him as a strange metaphor that a liquid represented his thirst. This would never have occurred to him before the Konoha prison, but with entertainment so hard to come by, it was something that he puzzled over for lack of something else to do.

* * *

For Sasuke, discovering his own mindscape was both fascinating and unsettling. It was mesmerizing in its angular shapes and red-black-white intensity, but the form it took was painful.

The Uchiha Compound was twisted out of shape in his mind, his perceptions overlaying its reality. His memories of the time before were all on neat little shelves in his childhood room, when he was safe and everything was okay.

The day of the massacre was the toy chest with the Uchiha fan, the one that got stained with blood. Whenever he thinks back on it, he muses that it represents innocence lost. In his mindscape this was so; though each day of his life before was a single individual item on the shelves, and the emotions that they held were on the shelves opposite them, the chest was close to brimming with the memories and emotions of a few scant hours.

The days after, still in Konoha, are in his parents' room. He slept there after the massacre.

Those are full of his mother and his father at night, _screaming _for his parents, for help, for Itachi, but the days are Team Seven. When the Yamanaka ran a hand over it, he could feel the corresponding shiver and rush of nostalgia, but that was not what the man was looking for. The days with Orochimaru were in the cellar, and innocuous vegetables were replaced with suspect syringes and vases half-full of dead flowers, snakeskins and swords and everything, in short, that holds a day in the dark.

This, his wanderings with Hebi, and the days of Madara were what the Yamanaka wanted.

* * *

Traveling with Hebi wasn't _fun_ by a long shot, but Sasuke did have the occasional fond memory, and monotony was a large improvement over Orochimaru. There were many, many, strange objects: little teacups, enormous sacks full of unidentifiable lumps, a live bird, frozen in the eye of the imagination.

The thing that the Yamanaka was looking for turned out to be in one of the first shelves. It was one of the things that felt the strangest to see, in fact; the tattoo had been on his body for so long that seeing it shifted back to a scrap of paper was a nasty shock.

Silently, he had allowed the interrogator to pick it up, turn it in his fingers, and scratch it with his nails. Though he was giving control to the Yamanaka, it was his mind, and Sasuke had felt the way that the memory was read. Of course, that was all it was; a memory, one with none of his actual emotions attached. It was still a very personal invasion, but it was like showing a video to someone, rather than truly allowing him into the moment. It was full of none of Sasuke's pain.

Honestly, the worst thing about the cell was that Sasuke had been given so much time to reflect, and so many painful things to reflect on. Seeing the contours of his mind, even (especially) as shifting and unstable as it was, with new items in new forms and traps scattered randomly throughout, was an eye-opening experience.

Even Sasuke's physical form was different: in his mind, he was younger, with a lighter form and thinner lines. His hair was long and spiny, pulled back in ponytail at the base of his neck. When Sasuke saw his mind-self's face for the first time, reflected in the glass from a fragment of mirror, it was not cold and ancient, but young, soft, and plastered with emotions.

Nevertheless, something in the desperation of the eyes and the rage of the mouth reminded him of Madara, the tightness at the jaw of Fugaku, the frail shoulders drooping under the weight of the world of Itachi. It was irritating to see that even after so long, Sasuke still perceived himself as an amalgam of others. His subconscious was creating an image of all the others that he had looked up to or wanted to be. Sasuke was the tool of his family. Nothing more, nothing less.

That didn't mean it didn't bother him. Dammit, he wanted more than that. As a child, his father was always pushing him to surpass Itachi. Sasuke, the less skilled and less brilliant, was more vulnerable to clan manipulation. They had been trying to shape him into their perfect weapon. Itachi, as they had discovered to their detriment, was too much of a wild card to ever truly belong to the clan.

Then Itachi himself had taken Sasuke away from the clan's influence, but only to shape him into a 'just' killer. Itachi had wanted death at Sasuke's hand, but only because it fit his twisted ideas of karma. Sasuke would have been just fine never seeking the power that Itachi had pushed him towards, but with the murderer of his family provoking him whenever he was at his weakest, Sasuke had become exactly what Itachi wanted him to be.

Finally, with the blood of his brother on his hands, Sasuke had been free of relatives to ruin him.

Or so he thought. It turned out that there was always another, the voice in the shadow, the puppet master, the one pulling all the strings. And Sasuke had wandered right into his web.

* * *

Now, thought Sasuke, standing and facing the ANBU, there were finally no more relatives. He was the last of the Uchiha clan. Sasuke was the shadow in the dark. Of course, he thought broodingly, someone would always be pulling his strings, but he had at least learned to recognize it. After all, it had happened so often.

In this case, Sasuke decided, it would be Naruto who manipulated him. Sasuke could _feel _it when Naruto, intentionally or not, got him to do something he hadn't even considered previously. It was aggravating, but knowing if you're being used gives a small measure of freedom.

Freedom was his prime interest at the moment.

The ANBU, a cat-faced male, dismissed the blind tokubetsu with a curt word. "Turn," he said to Sasuke. Sasuke did so warily, uncomfortable presenting his back to an unknown shinobi, but all the ANBU did was grab his hands brusquely and bind them together with chakra-infused metal cuffs. After this was done, the ANBU spun Sasuke back around by a shoulder. Without preamble he said, "I'm going to have to bind your Sharingan. Please submit calmly."

Producing a thick sheet of sealed paper, he placed it on Sasuke's face without another word, stretching from the top of his right ear to the top of the left, reaching down to almost touch the tip of his nose, plastering across his cheekbones. It made a sheer wall over his eye sockets, and blinking, Sasuke could feel his eyelashes scrape up and down against it.

Holding the paper in place with one hand, the ANBU obviously made some sequence of handsigns with the other, because with a painful jolt the paper attached itself to his face, closing down Sasuke's vision with an electric and disorienting suddenness.

"This seal prevents the passage of chakra. Your Sharingan will no longer be accessible, and neither will normal sight. Your eyes are now totally outside of your chakra and your nervous system, cutting off signals from the brainstem and also blood flow. The seal also engages stasis, but should you exit my presence this will disengage, and you will be permanently blinded."

Having said all this in two quick breaths, the ANBU placed a hand between Sasuke's shoulder blades and pushed, steering him out the door and into what his nose told Sasuke was the dank hall outside of his room. From there he was steered rapidly down so many flights of stairs, around so many corners, and through so many doors he was, as intended by the ANBU, hopelessly lost.

At one point there was a ride in a slippery elevator, which made Sasuke more uncomfortable than any other part of the journey. The ANBU must be very well trained, or perhaps have some kind of kekkai genkai if he was able to display no outward signs of discomfort or even heightened awareness even while trapped in what was, basically, a coffin on a chain. His hearing, increased by the lack of his sight, detected the grinding of metal on metal of the chains; the minute scrapes of the walls against the stone shaft, and the gentle, modulated breathing of the ANBU beside him.

When the elevator halted with a swift jerk, sending vibrations through the metal floor, Sasuke had to stop himself from lunging towards the doors and punching them until they gave way. Cat ANBU, unconcerned, walked leisurely to the back of the elevator, the two steps it took clanging hollowly. Perhaps another hand sign was made, or a seal deactivated, because the doors ground apart. Sasuke almost made his bid for freedom right then, and damn the probably fatal consequences, but Cat ANBU laid a restraining hand on the metal cuffs, which released a warning bolt of tingling electricity.

Sasuke gritted his teeth, but bore it. It was no worse than the least painful failed Chidori. Proceeding out into what smelled like yet another tunnel, the ANBU towed Sasuke by the cuffs to a flight of stairs, then another tunnel, through two doors, and then along a much less stuffy tunnel that might have been a hallway to a small chamber where he rotated Sasuke and unsealed his eyes. Sasuke remained grimly silent. Thoughts of vengeance bubbled up briefly, but he reminded himself that no, he could not kill this guy, even a little, and reintegration would not be conducive to rampant murder. He had to stay calm. No more uncontrolled rages.

He'd never bothered with restraint like this before. But with the seal fully recharged, Sasuke's head felt clearer than usual. Each emotion was still there, burning or churning or heavy as lead, but they were carefully compartmentalized, a ninja skill that Sasuke hadn't until recently cared to learn.

It's funny that these days Sasuke spends a lot of his time lost in his head.

* * *

The ANBU calmly led Sasuke by his bound hands down a much dryer, less musty-smelling hall, into a chamber at the end. Again, the man must have made some kind of handsigns, because the sealed piece of paper gave another jolt, disengaged itself from his face, and fluttered to the floor, like some kind of octopus releasing its suckers. In the brief glimpse that he caught, Sasuke's practiced eye noted several subtle reinforcement of the walls in key locations, as well as what was probably an emergency buzzer to call in backup. There was a table and two chairs on either side, indicating that this was an interrogation cell of some point, possibly nonviolent. He was cut off from more investigation rapidly.

"Close your eyes again," commanded Cat ANBU, pulling out an ordinary length of fabric. Sasuke tamely allowed his eyes to be covered once more, internally wishing that his Mangekyo could shoot fire.

He was towed once more down a few short halls, and although he should have been bored, it was more new outside stimuli then he had experienced eight months, so his every movement was stilted by wariness and his nose made small noises as he tried to take in every hint about his surroundings that he could. There were now other people in the area; the scent of their sweat and the sound of their breathing came from all sides. Some seemed to be in cells, and others were obviously guards or wardens on some kind of errand. Each he was passed Sasuke coiled in readiness, preparing to scrape off the blindfold and Sharingan any attacker into submission, and each time the unknown person walked on without issue.

Finally, _finally,_ he was pulled through yet another doorway and into the room beyond, the ANBU delicately maneuvering him into a chair. The cloth was pulled aside, his bound hands undone. Blinking in the harsh fluorescent light, Sasuke didn't fail to see who sat across from him.

"Meet your parole officer," said ANBU Cat, amusement oozing into every nuance of his voice.

Hatake Kakashi wrinkled his eye happily at him, waving his Icha Icha paradise in a vague gesture of benediction. "Yup, that's me."

The ANBU continued with his briefing, droning on about how he would be staying with Kakashi in his apartment, how they would be bound together by a seal, and how Kakashi had the ability to say when he would be ready for missions again, but all Sasuke could focus on was fighting back the rising instinct to activate his Sharingan.

* * *

Notes: I've said it before and I'll say it again: Sasuke is a pain in the ass to write. Also, I have been a whirling ball of stress and homicidal tendencies since finals started in December, with no actual reason to update this late other than I couldn't be bothered and Sasuke is a little bitch when you're trying to get inside his head. So combine those two facts and this is for sure not my most quality work, not to mention the weird shenanigans I pulled with tense. But whatever; leave me something anyway!

_Le plug_: my beta, shadowrallen on this site, helped me clean up this chapter! Go read his stuff!

(However, I'm kinda looking for a new one. shadowrallen is a temp, if that makes sense. Anyone?)


End file.
